And Should My Turtle Dove Fly Away
by RusCanWonderland
Summary: Ivan walks a long and unforgiving beat in Paradise Square, and has done so ever since Butcher Beilschmidt took over the Five Points. And while his bleeding heart has never gotten him into unwarranted trouble before, when he takes interest in a certain Turtle-Dove, it becomes reason enough for the Butcher to sentence him to death.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings: ** Gore, prostitution, murder,

**Notes**: This is heavily based off of Gangs of New York, so that's pretty much what this AU is known as between us.

* * *

The first rays of light always woke Ivan up slowly and relatively pleasantly. Swinging his legs off the edge of his bed, the man would sigh and close his eyes, back to the window, scars gleaming against his pale back and arms in the sunlight before he stood and walked to his wash basin, picking up his cream and lathering his face before he dragged his straight razor across his face slowly, carefully. Occasionally he would knick himself and not bother to clean the blood from his face as he cleaned the blade and slid it shut, placing it on the basin once more before wiping his face of the remaining cream, unwinding, then rebinding the bandages about his neck. Once he was done with that he would turn to his wardrobe and pull on his pants and boots before he pulled on his white shirt and blue jacket, fastening the brass buttons and rolling the long sleeves up to the thick roll of his biceps, white gloves on his hands and his hat perched on his head. Most Bowry Boys dressed in a strict manner, a professional manner, but Ivan didn't care for it. Not when he was walking the most difficult beat the entire city within the Five Points. Grabbing the thick hammer that he carried, the long handle resting easily over his shoulder, the man stepped down the stairs of his apartment to the dirt-filled street.

Ivan's violet eyes swept the desecration that littered the entire area, children screaming and sick, women flaunting their breasts at passing strangers, men sneering at Ivan as he walked by, their eyes averting in wary respect.

"Mr. Braginski." A woman smiled, rotting teeth falling out and Ivan smiled in his own closed-lipped way at her as she handed him a roll glazed with something sweet. "Thank you." She whispered and Ivan nodded, allowing the woman to bend his body until she could press a kiss to his silver hair.

Many people wondered as to why the man's hair was so pale, and quite a few would say because working in the Five Points had drained him of his youth. And as he walked it was easy to see that it might have aged his face, but he still walked with the upright confidence of when he had first started to walk the beat. He had to go uptown for a bit, but always made it a point to walk the streets to check on those that he protected and cared for, to hand out a few coins here and there and to speak with those that needed to hear his words, be they reassuring or threatening.

Eventually the aged male managed to catch a trolley uptown towards the police station, getting off in the richer section of town and walking towards his destination. He blinked at the sight that caught his eyes between the grates of a gate, a young girl opening her maid's uniform, the glint of diamonds and emeralds catching the man's eye with a frown as he walked forward.

"You." He called, pushing open the gate and swinging his hammer down to dangle at his side. "What are you doing?"

Head snapping around to regard the officer, blonde curls already tumbling out of the updo that was half encased in a tiny lace bonnet, the blonde 'maid' regarded the hammer at the man's side and instantly started to back up. Pale hands raised in defense and a gracious step backwards was taken, before realization dawned in wide blue eyes. In seconds the sparkling jewels were being hidden again by the collar of the maid uniform and a hand reached down to gather black skirts in order to hurriedly walk away.

Ivan frowned and reached out, grabbing the smaller figure and whirling them around, blinking in surprise when he realized that the young girl was in fact a young man, the front of the uniform opened enough to reveal the false bosom sewn into a corset. The man frowned and raised an eyebrow at the blonde, his grip unrelenting. "And what are you doing? Being a little turtledove?"

The rule with these officers was generally not to give them any information. If Matthew spoke too much it could clue them in to where he took his treasures to in order to receive money in return, and that was like revealing where the main nest of a singular rat was. But this week had been long, tiring,…and the last thing Matthew wanted was to argue with an officer when he had blatantly been caught.

"Please," he started, voice soft and scratchy as if he'd been up all night screaming which was not that far fetched to imagine. "…I work here. I'm just trying to go home."

At least half of that excuse wasn't a lie.

Ivan looked over the blonde, sighing before he reached out and unclasped the necklace, his fingers hooking into the front against the pale collarbone before lifting the jewels. "Don't steal." He murmured before he reached into his shirt pocket and counted out a few wrinkled bills, handing them to the blonde. The total added up to about twenty dollars, enough for a week's worth of food. "Get out of here." He ordered, leading the blonde out of the gate before he walked up to the front, necklace still in hand as he knocked on the door.

The door swung open and a small maid squeaked as she saw the gems, eyes wide as the man held them out to her. "Just slip these back into their place, that's a good girl." The man smiled. "Don't let the lady know that they were gone, don't worry her needlessly." The girl nodded and whimpered as she took the gems and scurried back inside, slamming the door shut behind her as Ivan turned and started down the street again, one hand in his pocket and the other balancing the large hammer on his shoulder."

Matthew glared hard at the officer as he watched the man go up the front door and return the pieces he had stolen. What was he supposed to do with money? Gilbert was expecting him to bring back objects, not paper bills, and he was now officially empty handed. He could just lay low for a few days and hope the butcher didn't notice, but that was highly unlikely. Gilbert had eyes and ears all over the city and he would find out eventually.

Sighing, Matthew buttoned the top of his faux uniform back up before withdrawing a coin that would get him back to the outskirts of the five points. Perhaps he could find a poor, naive fellow that he could lean close to and let him attempt a peek at his fake bosom while he worked off his pocket watch.

It wasn't a diamond necklace, but it would do.

Arriving back in the dirtier parts of town, Matthew made his way through the streets, ignoring lewd gestures and calls as he made his way to a building that served as a meeting place of sorts. Downstairs was a popular tavern that bustled day and night, and upstairs, where Matthew's heeled boots were leading him, was a club where gang members met, hidden under the disguise of a hotel. There were rooms, but they weren't used for sleeping.

Halfway up the stairs he was intercepted by a pair of slender hands, the touch shocking him slightly. A pair of kind, tired blue eyes that nearly matched his own smiled at him and Matthew breathed a breath of relief. "Papa…"

Francis smiled and kissed his forehead, his expression questioning without the use of words how Matthew's day went.

White fingers, thin and strong hooked into a chain around Matthew's neck, pulling up a pocketwatch and a cold smirk on the lips of the man. "Looks like the day went poorly." The man traced his fingers over the curve of Matthew's cheek. "What's wrong, bludget? Bad day?"

Matthew's eyes hardened but the expression was masked as he tilted his head from the fingers on his face, his gaze landing on the wall beside where they stood. "It was too difficult to take without getting caught," was his excuse as he tilted his head back to regard the owner of those white fingers, flirtatious and hopefully pretty.

"It might not be much…but it's a nice watch," he nearly cooed, hands reaching behind his neck to unclasp the chain and hand it over, his fingers hesitating over the front of the uniform where he had the money hidden.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed and he reached forward, slipping his fingers into Matthew's front, his thumb and other fingers rubbing over the soft skin before he found the wad of dollar bills. "What's this?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "Where did you filtch this?"

"Does it matter where I got it?" he hissed slightly, fingers itching to reach for it. "Gilbert..please..now I've brought you things all week. I don't have enough for Alfred's medicine this week and he needs another dose soon,…" he argued, not one to beg but the man in front of him was being more than slightly unreasonable. Francis cleared his throat and shook his head slightly, warning his son to not fuss and keep his patience.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow over at the blonde man, his fingers dropping the bills on the floor before he turned and stroked his fingers through the older male's hair. "You're going to make up for that little loss I'm letting slide?" The older blonde nodded and Gilbert smirked and pulled his fingers back from the bearded jaw. "Good. Find a room." He ordered with a nod before turning back to Matthew. "Pick them up."

"Papa…," Matthew started, ignoring Gilbert in favor of reaching to touch his father's hand. It wasn't wise to not obey what the butcher asked, when the butcher asked it. "You don't have to…it'll be alright..I'll get Alfred's medicine another way," he told him, making sure to shoot an icy glare in Gilbert's direction.

"Well maybe money doesn't appeal to me as much as favors from your Papa?" The albino raised an eyebrow. "Unless you want to join in tonight? Didn't you have fun last time?"

Bristling lightly, Matthew pulled away and bent to gather the money on the floor, fingers balling the paper into his fists. He wasn't about to stand there and listen to Gilbert or face the idea that his father was still stupid enough to let the butcher do whatever he pleased to him. He understood it was a sense of security, but he was sure by now the older blonde would have realized its fault by now. Without a word, Matthew moved back down the steps and left the tavern, his feet rushing him through the dirty streets as he made his way to the pharmacy as fast as he could.

It was getting late, and Matthew didn't particularly want to be out on the streets at night. The man behind the counter recognized him instantly, and exchanged the wadded money for a small bottle of liquid. With a small nod of thanks, Matthew was on his way home, a little cut out in the wall that their father had managed to build a wooden door in front of before his passing.

Alfred was asleep on the straw bed in the corner of the small space, and it only made Matthew feel a little better to feel that the other blonde wasn't running a fever. He settled beside him, content to rest sitting up until his brother stirred and he'd be able to give him another dose. He had a few bills left that in the morning he could use to buy them dinner, but it was too dangerous to go out after sundown.

There were things Matthew was brave enough to do, but then there those that he wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings: **Gore, prostitution, murder,

**Notes**: This is heavily based off of Gangs of New York, so that's pretty much what this AU is known as between us.

* * *

"It's the bleeding heart, isn't it?" Gilbert murmured as he laid beside Francis, the blonde tilting his head to peer at the older man. "That pig that walks around with the hammer and the willing pockets…"

"I wouldn't know, Gilbert." Francis murmured. "It was money… And if he had it then why worry about where he got it?" The blonde rolled onto his stomach and attempted at a coy grin. "And should I worry that you're thinking of my son right after sex with me?"

Gilbert grunted and smirked, tilting his head to smile at the blonde against him. "Get over here."

Though the thought didn't leave his mind.

Which was probably why the next morning Ivan was being escorted into the tavern, his hammer in hand as he stood, legs balanced and eyes darting over faces, recognizing some if not all of them as he wandered into the area that was filled with tables and chairs and people and liquor.

"Braginski." The albino grinned and Ivan nodded, eyes catching sight of Matthew and pausing only for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the younger male.

"Beilschmidt… It's been what? Five? Six years?"

"Ten, actually." Gilbert smirked. "Losing track of time?"

"At least I keep track of faces." Ivan pointed out. "And names. Unlike you." The older male lowered his hammer, the head resting on his foot as he stood, prepared to fight should someone attempt an attack. "What's this about?"

Gilbert smirked. "You know that I'm willing to pay my dues where they're due… And you sir… You're an important part of our little world." Gilbert smirked and gave Ivan a nod, the albino straightening and standing slowly. "Why not get on my payroll? Instead of the Bowry Boys'?"

Biting his lip, Matthew shifted so his curls hid some of his face as he watched from his shadowy perch, his father by his side. It was almost unnerving that they had found and pinpointed the officer in particular after he had been so generous to give him money when he could've very well arrested him.

Gilbert was up to something, always had double sided reasons to everything he did and this was no different.

"Name your price." Gilbert leaned back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach and his feet propped on the table. "Money, drink… Pretty girls? Or boys if that's your fancy." The albino smiled and nodded to the crowd. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

Ivan frowned tightly and folded his arms over his chest, his hammer resting on his shoulder as he stared at the younger male. "I don't need money. And I don't need drink. I don't care for girls and I don't care for your boys." The man rested his mallet across his shoulders and he straightened. "You know there's a woman, two blocks from here, with three children starving because their father went missing a month ago… Another woman, a prostitute, who died and left her daughter sick in the hospital while her husband drank himself under the table." Ivan glared down at Gilbert. "You might be able to live with ruining their lives, but I can't and I won't." The man turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. "Keep your money. And keep your whores off of me."

Sneers and mockings to Ivan's bleeding heart followed the officer to the door until Matthew couldn't see him anymore. He was silent though a heavy sense of guilt sat in his chest. The man had been kind enough to give him money that kept his brother comfortable for another week and without his help, that would've never happened.

"What's he trying to pull?" Matthew mumbled quietly, eyes flicking to his father's face. Francis wasn't particularly paying attention to him, and with a little smile he shook his head.

"He wants to keep that man off of his tracks," was all the explanation Matthew received.

Gilbert didn't let his smile fade until Ivan was out in the street again before he bared his teeth and snarled, grabbing a shot glass and throwing it across the room for it to shatter against the wood of a support. "Fucking bleeding heart." He growled, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. His gaze landed on Francis and without another word the man was across the room, hands soothing away tension and hurt pride gently, his front pressed to Gilbert's back as he moved his hands slowly.

Though the wheels didn't stop turning, and that thoughtful gaze didn't fade away.

—

Ivan groaned as he leaned back against the front wall of his apartment, watching people go by in the streets, tracking with his eyes the journey of those he knew and those that he didn't, careful and watchful despite their seemingly cold gaze.

He blinked at the sight of a familiar head of blonde and whistled softly. "Turtle-dove." He called, nodding to the blonde as he stood, hoisting his hammer onto his shoulder and striding over. "Anymore jewels I should start looking for on you?"

Pausing in the street, Matthew tilted his head as he peered across to where he had heard the surprisingly familiar voice. He considered not stopping, but Ivan had been nothing but kind to him. He owed him at least a hello.

Cautiously approaching, the blonde kept his distance, but came close enough that he could see what color Ivan's eyes were and appreciate his dark eyelashes. "…you live here?" he asked, a little awkward for something to say as he twirled a slightly dirty finger in a particularly long curl.

"It's…uhm, it's nice.."

"Nicer than most of the Five Points." The older male smiled down at Matthew before he nodded to the blonde. "And you, My Bludget? You on your way home?"

"Well I'm certainly not heading to someone else's home if that's what you're implying," he clipped, head tucking as he attempted to hide a little blush.

"I wasn't." Ivan pointed out, stepping forward and leaning down, his hand reaching up slowly, carefully, before wiping away at a smear of dirt on a pale cheek. "You have very pretty eyes." He murmured, his hand slowly dropping before he straightened. "I guess you should get home before it gets too dark… Would you like me to escort you?"

Matthew almost took the man up on the offer, but as of late, he didn't wish to drag Ivan into the heart of the Five Points more than he needed to be with Gilbert still ruffled. Instead he flushed and cleared his throat softly, his feet moving him backwards and away. "That's….not necessary," Matthew offered, not trying to be rude, but feeling he was going to be no matter what.

He made to turn to go, hands wringing out of habit before he turned to look at him again. "Thank you…for…your generosity," he mumbled, not exactly good at expressing his gratitude for handouts. "It helped more than you know."

The older male smiled and nodded. "You're welcome, My Bludget." The man reached out, taking a thin hand in his own and pressing a kiss to the dirty knuckles before letting the slim hand slide out of his hand. "Get home, before it gets darker."

The blonde could only nod as he cradled his hand against his body and hurried away in the direction he had been going, sparing the officer one last glance before rounding a corner. His heart was pounding as he paused to lean against a brick wall, lips parting to take in a little breath.

Only then did he realize that if Gilbert didn't know where Ivan lived, he could very well know now if someone had seen Matthew speaking with him. Swallowing hard, Matthew hurried across the street and down an alley, a short cut that would take him closer to where Alfred was waiting for him. Papa never came home anymore, which was both unsettling and better off. There was more space for the two of them to at least sleep, though Matthew made sure Alfred was never cold and well covered at all times. He sighed as he settled beside his brother, weary blue eyes opening to smile at him as Matthew returned the gesture.

"You look different…" Alfred murmured, voice hoarse and weary, exhausted despite sleeping most of the day. "You look like how Papa used to look at Father."

"Shh," Matthew hushed him softly, moving to tuck him closer under the blankets. "You need to sleep and I'll get you something to eat, alright?"

"Is he kind?" Alfred asked, as if he hadn't heard Matthew. "You're blushing…"

Matthew was quiet for a moment as he paused in finding a small canteen of clean water that he shared between cooking and drinking. "No one is kind, Alfred…just nice when they have to be," he told him, though he knew that wasn't true about Ivan. No one was like the man and it was probably for the best. Ivan's bleeding heart could have him in danger and no matter how mighty that hammer might've been, once Gilbert had his disgusting hands on him no one seemed to escape. Francis was a prime example.

"Since when did you become father?" Alfred coughed and attempted to laugh, rolling onto his side and covering his mouth, wiping the blood on the rag beside the bed, breath shaky before he smiled up at Matthew. "You should invite him to the Fall Festival… Dance with him."

"Don't be ridiculous, Alfred," Matthew berated him softly, worriedly coming over to dab at his forehead. "I'm not going to the Festival."

Alfred pouted at Matthew. "Gilbert doesn't own you like he owns Papa…" Alfred reached out and grasped Matthew's hand, tangling their fingers together gently. "Go to the Festival? For me?"

"I don't want to go without you," he told him with a little smile, fingers moving to brush through Alfred's hair. "And I'm perfectly happy staying right here, Gilbert has no say over that."

Alfred pouted, but his eyes were drooping sleepily and he let out a huff of air that sounded like a cough before he sighed and rested his head against Matthew's hand tangled with his. "You should go… And dance with him." His eyes slid close and he began to breathe as deeply as he could, sleep taking over as he curled his hand in Matthew's.

"Oh, Alfred," he breathed, feeling his throat clench as he bent to kiss his head, Matthew's body settling beside his. It wasn't wise to sleep in such close quarters with those that were sick, doctors warned, in fear of it being contagious, but Matthew didn't care. Papa belonged to Gilbert, and the only person he had was Alfred since their Father was gone. He stroked his brother's hair as he fell asleep, mind stuck on the idea of dancing with Ivan and how much the idea made him strangely anxious and dare he say happy.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings: **Gore, prostitution, murder,

**Notes**: This is heavily based off of Gangs of New York, so that's pretty much what this AU is known as between us.

* * *

Ivan was woken by a loud bell, jerking up in his shirt and racing to his window. There was a glow of fire and pillar of smoke. The officer cursed and pulled on his pants, suspenders slapping against his thighs as he didn't bother to tuck his shirt, grabbing his hammer as he raced into the street, people screaming as they raced in one direction or another, the officer fighting against the crowd. He found the slim blonde racing towards the building and grabbed his thin arm.

"What do you think you're doing?!" It wasn't unusual for thieves to raid burning houses for valuables, but he didn't expect the smaller male to be so stupid.

Matthew nearly screeched as he was suddenly pulled to a stop, his curls wild as he whipped his head to peer up at Ivan's face, his arm instantly pulling back as hard as he could. "Ivan! Ivan please let me go. My brother…my brother can't get out…!"

Tears streamed down his smudged cheeks as he wrenched free of the officer's hold and pushed past thieves and firemen attempting to hurry and find the closest hydrant. Unhinging the door to their little home, Matthew covered his face to stifle the little coughs as he moved through the smoke.

"Alfred…just..just hold on, I'll get you out," he assured the other blonde who instantly began a string of shaky protests to just be left and for Matthew to get to safety. Matthew ignored his fussing as he pulled at one of the bricks in the wall closest to the ground and reached inside the dark hole, his fingers grasping a tiny burlap bag that he shoved into the top of his outfit.

He immediately went to his brother's side to gather him close, but no matter how strong he thought himself to be, his thin frame would never be able to hold his brother all the way to safety.

"Damnit Mattie….get..get the hell out of here," Alfred fussed as Matthew pressed the ends of a blanket to his nose and mouth to stifle his coughs.

"I'm not leaving you…"

There was an explosion of brick from near the door and Ivan slammed his hammer into the wall and shoving his way through. "Get out!" The man ordered, grabbing hold of the blanket that covered Alfred and wrapping it around him tightly before he hoisted the young man over his shoulder, turning to glare at Matthew. "Go, get out! I'll be right behind you!" There was a threatening groan from the ceiling and the heat was becoming unbearable as Ivan forced Matthew through the door, following with Alfred over his shoulders, the younger male clutching at his shirt as they moved. Eventually they were out in the street and Ivan raced over to a patch of grass nearby, laying down the blonde that had been over his shoulder. "You're alright?" He asked and the boy nodded, groping for Matthew's hand as Ivan stood. "Stay here." The man ordered, grabbing his hammer beneath the head and racing over as the building continued to burn and the fire brigade did little to stop the growing of the fire.

Matthew immediately began to fuss over his brother, his hands stained in soot and ash as he brushed them through Alfred's hair, assuring him that he was alright. He pressed a kiss to Alfred's forehead, his arms shaking as he gathered his brother into his arms and peered in the direction Ivan had ran in. "If he goes back inside he's going to get himself killed…."

Ivan groaned and hoisted his hammer in both hands, swinging it down to break through doors finding empty rooms until he found a woman screaming in the back. He managed to haul her over his shoulder carrying the woman from the building despite the burns that were accumulating on his arms and hands. He stepped into the street and placed the woman on her feet just as the building collapsed, coughing and wiping at his eyes as he sat on the grass on the other side of the street.

His eyes burned and his hands hurt, his hammer falling beside him as the man laid back on the ground and just breathed, aching and hot for a less than pleasurable reason.

Gently placing Alfred onto the grass, Matthew murmured a quiet promise to be right back as he stood and hurried to get some water the firemen were giving out and then to Ivan's side. He shook his head as he reached down to tear off the ends of his uniform skirts, dipping the shreds into the water before gently dabbing at his face.

"You're a foolish man, officer, if I may say so," he told him, careful to swipe all the dirt and grime from the edges of his burns. "You could've died…and for what? A couple of criminals and peasants?" Matthew sighed, shifting onto his knees and gently drawing Ivan's head into his lap.

"C'mon…you need to drink something. You probably have smoke in your lungs."

Ivan coughed and swallowed the offered water, his hand coming up to grasp Matthew's wrist before he fell back and gasped, eyes prying themselves open now that the adrenaline was gone. "You're alright? Everyone's alright?"

"We're as alright as we're going to be,"Matthew murmured softly, his hand smoothing gently through Ivan's hair. "You're terribly brave…your mother should've disciplined you for that." He gave him a tiny smile as he gently set to work cleaning what he could of Ivan's injuries. "Some more officers should be coming to take you to an infirmary, but maybe this will help you feel better. You…you saved Alfred…and that..that means more to me than I can ever express to you."

Ivan smiled and opened his eyes to the blonde. "Ivan." He murmured. "My name is Ivan."

Matthew smiled, his dirty fingers reaching to brush at a soot stain on Ivan's cheek like the man had done for him a few days before. "Thank you, Ivan…I'm…," he bit his lip, glancing up at an older woman that lived upstairs from he and Alfred, her body bent by Alfred's side as she fussed a fireman to give him water, too. "…I'm Matthew."

Ivan smiled at that, nodding against the blonde's lap. "Matvey… It's a pleasure to meet you, My Bludget."

The woman that had been fussing over Alfred was interrupted by an officer asking the boy if he could walk to the infirmary, Ivan grunted and rolled over, standing shakily before he straightened to his full height. "That won't be necessary." He walked over and knelt beside Alfred, smiling over his shoulder at Matthew. "He and his brother will be staying with me until their home is rebuilt."

"No…Iva-..Officer, I can't..," Matthew shook his head as he stood, hurrying behind Ivan and going to stand between the man and his brother. "I can't risk staying with you….and…I can't pay for Alfred. Please…it's very kind of you but we'll find something." Matthew licked his lips, reality and worry sinking into his being upon realizing that indeed their home was gone. He couldn't have Alfred on the streets…he'd never make it longer than a few weeks if that. He wondered briefly if Francis could perhaps speak to Gilbert…work his charms on him anything..they were his boys after all. The Butcher could find them a safe place to sleep…or at least he should have if he claimed to be so caring of all those that resided in the Five Points. Between Matthew and Francis, the amount of items stolen and favors and crimes they had committed in favor of Gilbert and his protection was staggering. A room to keep a sick boy should be nothing. But Matthew wasn't stupid.

No one got anything from the Butcher for nothing.

Biting his lip, Matthew peered up at Ivan's face. "Please…if you…if perhaps…you had space on your floor…for Alfred? Just until I can find something else…I'll come to feed him and take care of him…h-he's sick…and-" Matthew's throat was clenching as the weight of it all suddenly hit him in the chest. He wasn't prepared for this…never thought of it ever happening to them. This was the last thing he had expected and just the thought that Matthew could do nothing…It ached.

"I can set both of you up for as long as you need." Ivan smiled down at the blonde. "Grandmamma Dunlock downstairs could use someone to take care of, she keeps complaining about being unoccupied."

—

It took a bit, but eventually Ivan had managed to get a second mattress on the floor for Alfred, the blonde wrapped in blankets that Ivan tucked against his frame, the downstairs neighbor, a frail old woman with large green eyes, fussing over the two boys and preparing hot tea and whatever else she could.

Ivan had left to gather more fresh water from the nearby pump and Alfred turned to his brother. "He's much more handsome than I thought he would be."

"Alfred…please," Matthew muttered softly, his hands tucked in his lap as he peered quietly at the floor. He had been still and silent since the entire ordeal had begun…moving into Ivan's home, invading the man..a police man's space. If Gilbert were to find out…

The Butcher would accuse them, Matthew, of ratting him out…of working with the enemy and who knows what he would do to the generous man that had taken it upon himself to save their lives.

"…you know I can't stay. If Gilbert or Antonio..even Papa..if they were to see me here, they'd set this entire place on fire….they'd kill him and you..and everyone else in here." He took a little breath before he moved his fingers through Alfred's hair, gentle and soothing.

"If you're hidden here, it'll be alright. And I'll go see what I can do…I'll find us a new home..a better one, you'll see," Matthew smiled, or at least tried to as he pat gently at the covers over Alfred's chest.

Alfred nodded, already starting to drift off again as he spoke, mumbling softly, "He has very pretty eyes… I can see why you blush around him."

Flushing a little, Matthew smoothed his hand on the covers one last time before bending to kiss his brother's forehead. "Be good, Alfred," he told the sleeping blonde as he stood, dirty fingers reaching to smooth at his own disheveled hair. Sighing, he left the room, quietly hoping he could slip out undetected by the officer who would most likely attempt to keep him there.

Matthew wanted to stay. It was warm and clean, and Ivan was there. He could speak to him more…learn about him, things that Matthew hated that he wanted to do. But Alfred came first and he had to get the other blonde medicine soon and that required money. He touched the little burlap still hidden against his chest as he stepped outside and onto the dirty street, eyes glancing about for Ivan returning from the water pump.

"Matthew!" Francis was racing down an alley, grabbing his son and pulling the blonde to his chest. "Oh, thank god, where is your brother?" The older male pulled back, worry painting his face as he stared down at the blonde. "Is he… Did he make it out?" The older male had obviously been running, as out of breath as he was, his eyes wide and terrified and his hands shaking.

"Papa…Papa, everything's okay," he told him, hugging tightly to his father and hating how thin he felt through his lightweight clothes. "Alfred made it just fine…he's okay," he murmured, relishing in the feel of the hug until Francis pulled back and Matthew was nodding to attempt to soothe his worries. "I was…just on my way to tell you."

"Where is he?" Francis asked worriedly. "I… I need to see him." The blonde's voice cracked and he held tight to his son.

"He's…," Matthew bit his lip as he pulled back to peer up at Francis' face. "Papa…he's..he's with a nice man..and an old woman..they're taking care of him until I can find somewhere else for us to live." He was terrified to tell him just where Alfred was. He never expected Francis to want to actually see him.

"Matthew, you tell me where he is, I need to see him." Francis stated firmly, giving his son a light shake.

Wincing, Matthew stepped back to give distance between them. "…he's with Ivan…Officer Braginski." His eyes slipped down to the dirty alley beneath their feet as he fiddled with his fingers, lips parting to take a deep breath. "He saved us…from the fire, Papa. I told him no…that I would come to you and Gilbert for help but…but he insisted. He's warm and comfortable…and a nice woman is doting on him like a king." Matthew chanced a glance up at Francis' face, worried and fearful of his reaction. "…it's just until I can get him some place else. He's comfortable and safe and I couldn't…I couldn't damn him to the streets, Papa."

Francis' face went through a range of emotion, fear and worry being the most prominent before he nodded and peered past Matthew, catching sight of Ivan stepping into the building. "I'll go slip in." The man whispered, turning to Matthew. "Stay here." He ordered gently, cupping Matthew's face and kissing his cheeks. "I'll be right back."

Matthew nodded as he watched Francis disappear into the building Ivan had just went into. With a withering sigh he leaned against the brick wall, fingers digging into his collar to finger the chains of necklaces he kept hidden at all times, a nervous habit that used to be able to calm his nerves.

"Shacking in the pig's sty?" Gilbert's voice filtered over and the albino slid out of the darkness, his thumbs hooked into his belt as he stood before the younger male, red eyes bright with anger and something else. "What did you tell him?"

Stiffening, Matthew glared at the other male, his hands lowering as he balled them into fists. "I told him nothing. Do I look like I want to die?" He hissed, his body shrinking back a little no matter how tough he pretended to be.

"Really?" Gilbert's fingers pinched at the chin of the blonde, tilting the pale face to look up at him before he glanced at the entrance of the alley before turning his eyes back at the blonde. "Well, you know what I think? I think you're trying to get out of my fold by hiding behind the pig."

Matthew resisted the urge to spit in the Butcher's face, eyes cold and harsh as he could get them. "You don't know anything, Gilbert. It's for my brother…he's taking care of Alfred," he bit, head jerking to get out of his hold.

"Hm? And what are you giving in return?" Gilbert slid his hand over the bodice of the blonde's disguise, grabbing a handful of skirts and lifting until his hand, chilled and thin, pressed to the warm outer thigh of the blonde, fingers grasping and digging in. "And what are you going to give me to keep me from gutting you right here right now?"

"I've given you everything I've ever had," he spat, his body shifting harshly to get away from his hold. "…It's for Alfred, Gilbert. Please…I can't give him anymore than somewhere nice to be until he's gone…, and you've already taken my father from him…," he growled eyes boring into the Butcher's face. "Ivan has asked for nothing…and I don't intend to give."

"Well, then, I intend to take." Gilbert growled, grabbing thin wrists and slamming the blonde into the wall and joining them in one hand before he fitted his hips between Matthew's hips. "Or I'll bash your head in right here right now."

Hissing and arching his back, Matthew bit his lip as he grit his jaw to keep from protesting. "Leave Alfred alone…and you can have what you damn well want," he finally murmured, quiet defeat evident in his voice.

Gilbert smirked and leaned forward, nipping at the blonde's pale throat. "Of course… You have my word." The older male thrust up against Matthew's hips before he reached down with his free hand to spread thighs further and fit himself nicely into the young thief.

It was all Matthew could do to remain as silent as he could, to not protest and stay still not to make it worse. The brick dug into his shoulder blades awkwardly and Matthew bit his lip to keep from whimpering until Gilbert finally pulled away and was through with him.

"Hmm… Much tighter than your Papa." Gilbert gave Matthew's hair a small tug before he smirked and pulled away. "I'd better not hear about you telling anything you shouldn't to the pig."

"You have my word," Matthew mumbled, smearing a hand over his neck as he readjusted the skirts that Gilbert had ruffled. He attempted to straighten, at least into a lean as he spotted Francis heading back towards him. His throat clenched and his instincts to seek safety and comfort in his father's arms was easily shoved aside. "…did you see him…?"

Francis nodded, pulling his son into a hug, giving Gilbert a quick glance before he peered down at Matthew. "You will be good, oui?" The man whispered, kissing Matthew's forehead. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Of course, Papa," Matthew assured him, a little smile on his mouth as he avoided looking at Gilbert and refused to move until they were gone.

"My Bludget?" Ivan called, catching sight of the blonde and stepping forward. "Are you alright?"

Drawing in a breath, Matthew swept his fingertips underneath his eyes before he straightened off of the wall and tilted his head to smile at the officer. "Of course…," he breathed, sauntering towards him and holding his arms over his waist. "I hope my Papa didn't give you too much trouble."

"It's the least I could do for him." Ivan smiled slightly sadly. "Come on inside."

"I don't…have to," Matthew began, knowing he should leave for as long as he could…make it seem like he didn't have a connection to the officer. Truly, there wasn't one, but Matthew couldn't help that even though he tried to decline, he slowly moved towards him.

Ivan blinked at a wet sound and stared down, frowning at the soaked skirts, reaching out and lifting the fabric slowly, staring at blood trailing down Matthew's leg. "You're hurt!" The man released the fabric and turned to look at Matthew's blue eyes. "Come here, come here." The man placed one hand beneath back, the other hooking under knees, and lifted Matthew into his arms. "What in Christ's name are you thinking…" The man pulled Matthew to his chest, beginning to walk up the alley and into his rooms. "Grandmamma? Please get me some wine? And a rag?"

Matthew hissed at being moved, his hands struggling lightly against Ivan's shoulders. "You need to mind your own business, officer," he protested softly, eyes lowering away from the man's face. He was embarrassed and frustrated and he couldn't understand why he just couldn't let himself be taken care of. Being protected came with prices, and Matthew didn't have anything to pay. "It's not…it's not as bad as you're thinking, alright?"

Ivan laid Matthew on the bed, uncaring of the blood that would get on his sheets before he lifted Matthew's skirts and paused as the older woman handed him his requested supplies. "Thank you." He told her as she left, closing the door behind her before the man tilted his eyes to Matthew. "Can I at least clean you up? Whatever it is… it could get infected."

"I can…I can clean it myself," he breathed, sitting up, his eyes tilting away from Ivan's face. He just….he couldn't look at him. Ivan was so kind..so selfless. And for what? Was it just a ploy to gain his own sort of safety from the nasty people of the Points?

Ivan frowned slightly before he spoke. "If I leave you to clean it yourself… You promise you'll actually do it?"

"And how would you ever know the difference?" Matthew cooed slightly, sitting up and hiding a wince as he did so. "Are you going to check…?" He gave him a coy smile, his hand shifting to drag his skirts sideways to reveal the expanse of blood on his inner knee.

"No. I'd trust you." The older male raised an eyebrow. "Unless you wanted me to do a taste test for the wine?" His eyes were the brightest unnatural violet intense and focused solely on Matthew's own. "I'm not going to do anything inappropriate to you, My Bludget."

"You'd be the first," he smiled, reaching to gently pat Ivan's knee. "…you need to stop worrying so much….I'd hate to see something ever happen to you." Matthew smiled at Ivan for a moment, eyes raking over the officer's facial features. Kind and handsome…he needed to get himself a wife and have a family…anything to get his mind off of the streets and the Points. "Have all the wine you want…I can't exactly dress my wounds with it."

"But you can clean with it." The man murmured. "Not exactly like I have cleaning alcohol here." The older male lifted his hand further up the skirts carefully. "I'll have you cleaned one way or another."

Hissing softly, Matthew touched his knees together, eyes locked on Ivan's face as he shook his head. "Please…," he started as he shifted back with a little mewl. "I can do it."

"Will you?" Ivan asked, his hand moving further up to grasp at a thin thigh. "I'm not leaving unless you promise to clean it."

"I promise!" he nearly sobbed, his hand reaching to grasp ahold of Ivan's bicep. "I will, damnit…" he murmured, eyes begging for Ivan not to push this any further.

Ivan removed his hand and handed over the wine, standing and walking to the door, back to the room as he leaned against the frame. "Clean yourself, I won't look, but I'll listen."

"You're awfully persistent, did you know that?" he argued softly, his body slowly spurring into life as he stood and began to undo his top and skirts. It took a little bit of effort, the ache in his lower back made more prominent as he attempted not to make too much noise.

Ivan listened to the skirts fall, eyes firmly kept ahead despite the need to look at the blonde. He listened to the wine slosh, a few drops landing on the wooden floor, the hiss of Matthew's breath through his teeth as he cleaned himself and then the ruffle of skirts being replaced.

"There's a shirt in the dresser, you can use that to sleep in." Ivan called, eyes not flicking over his shoulder but lowering to the floor for a few minutes as he listened.

"I can?" Matthew asked, soft and almost watery before he slowly made his way to the dresser, not even waiting for an answer. He pulled the article of clothing on, his fingers flexing and curling into the soft fabric of the shirt, before he reached up to smooth at his curls. "You…you can turn around now."

Ivan turned and stood in the doorway, his arms resting against the frame before he nodded to the bed. "You can sleep there tonight." He walked to the chair beside Alfred's bed, settling into it and leaning back. "I'll sleep here."

"No,…that's too much," Matthew protested, shaking his head as he held up his hands. "I can rest with Alfred…" He met Ivan's gaze, pleading and just a little fed up with how kind and self sacrificing he was being.

"Either you sleep on the bed or I'll sleep on the bed with you and pin you there." The man stated without joking in his tone. "One of the other."

Licking his lips, Matthew sighed, before gesturing for Ivan to get on the bed. "….sleep beside me. No…pinning required," he mumbled, not entirely comfortable with Ivan that close after meeting with Gilbert, but knowing in his heart that Ivan would do nothing to him that Matthew didn't want. And even then Ivan wouldn't budge.

Ivan laid down on the bed, holding out his arm for Matthew to lay down on, not moving until the blonde was in his arms and he could gently tuck the blonde within his arms. "Goodnight, My Bludget." The man murmured, one arm on the bed as a pillow, the other around the blonde's slim waist.


	4. Chapter 4

Matthew had to be pried off of Francis' body, as he refused to let the corpse of his father go even when the blood had stopped and the warmth had left him permanently. For hours he wandered the streets of the Five Points, covered in blood and so disheveled he could barely recognize himself. He considered not going back to Ivan, letting Alfred live peacefully until he died taken care of and warm, and letting them all believe that he had simply died somewhere. He couldn't damn Ivan to death...but Alfred...Alfred was now all that he had left.

And how would he ever tell him that Papa was dead?

It was some ungodly hour in the morning when Matthew finally figured out what he was going to do, his body aching and trembling as he knocked softly at the officer's front door. It didn't take much for tears to blur his vision as he waited, eyes wild as he twisted to peer at every shadow and sign of movement he saw among the doorframes and alleyways.

He wished Gilbert had just killed him, too.

Ivan woke with a jolt, standing and opening the door, staring at Matthew for a moment before he pulled the blonde close in a one armed hug, the other hand bracing himself against the doorframe as he tucked his face against Matthew's curls. "Bludget, where were you? Your brother kept asking and I couldn't find you..." The man pulled back and stared at Matthew. "You're soaked in blood." He murmured, pulling Matthew in and cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

"Papa...my Papa's gone, Ivan,"Matthew whimpered, hands shaking as they snapped up to hold onto the wrists near his face. He trembled, eyes dark and wet as his knees threatened to give in before shouting loud enough to wake the entire building. "They took him!" He drew in gulps of air as he sobbed and pressed his face to Ivan's chest, fingers splayed and desperate, trying with all his might not to hold and grapple for the other male but failing.

Ivan knelt on the floor, pulling the blonde close and gently cradling him. "Do you know who?" The man asked. "Any idea as to where he is?" He had never been so closely involved with one of his missions, but now he was holding someone that had become increasingly valuable to him. "Shh, shh, calm down." The older male kissed soft cheeks, pressing their foreheads together. "Matvey, Matthew... Look at me, look at me." The man tilted Matthew's face so that their eyes could meet. "I'll find him, My Bludget."

Matthew shook his head as he drew in deep breaths, his body slowly relaxing into a small pile of trembles. He tilted his head up, face stained with dirt, blood and dried tears as he shook his head in empty confusion.

"Why...? Why do you even care...? You know as well as I do that he ran away...m-maybe taking an opportunity for a better life...or that he's...he's dead," he mumbled, whimpering like a child as he pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. "What am I going to tell Alfred...?"

"If he had wanted to run away... He would have run away the day that Gilbert took over the Five Points." Ivan whispered with a frown. "I'll find him for you... at the very least, if he is dead, I'll bring him to you for a proper burial." Ivan tilted Matthew's face to press their foreheads together. "Stay with your brother... Tomorrow I'll ask questions." The older male carefully lifted Matthew. "Let's get you cleaned up." He carried the blonde down the stairs to the kitchen, carefully placing him in the chair as he filled a tub with water, then set a pot to boil more, turning to Matthew and kneeling in front of him. "Would you let me help you?"

Matthew's eyes slowly moved up from the floor, his gaze searching Ivan's face before he gave him a tiny, broken smile. "What else do I have...? A choice?" he whispered, his hands extending so that he could brush his fingertips over Ivan's cheeks. "By God,...you must be an angel," he murmured, tears slow and tiny trickling down from the corners of his eyes. Shifting he moved forward until his knees bumped Ivan's chest lightly, his fingers coming up to undo the worn and dirty top that did its best to conceal his body, but never really could hide everything. He sniffled lightly as he removed it, piece by piece, his hands reaching down to undo his boots and to slide off the stockings he wore as socks. He flickered his eyes away as he stood to undo the skirts, bending to lower them with a little groan as a hand shot out to grasp Ivan's shoulder for balance. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry.."

"Shh..." Ivan pressed his forehead to Matthew's, his hand on the blonde's hip, large and warm, holding close and gently brushing his hand over the blonde's waist, standing slowly and holding Matthew upright as he cupped pale cheeks. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

The hot water was added to the bath and Ivan placed Matthew inside carefully, gently beginning to clean his face, shoulders, chest, back and legs, his fingers on the pale skin firm and warm and careful as he cleaned Matthew as well as he could, his touches remaining chaste as he moved and whispered reassuringly in Russian, the words with little meaning but soothing nonetheless.

As he was bathed, Matthew shifted onto his side, his cheek touching the side of the tub as he stared into nothing and allowed Ivan's hands and gentle touches to move as they pleased. He drew in a withering breath which rattled his lungs, his eyes still burning with images of his father's blood and Ivan's smile. "I envy them..."he breathed after a moment of silence that took up the space between Ivan's reassuring whispers. "...I envy them so much I could...I could die."

"Who?" Ivan asked gently, his fingers tenderly stroking the pale cheeks, his hand pushing hair gently away from Matthew's neck, his fingers tracing the pale skin before he tilted his head to peer at blue eyes. "Who do you envy?"

"Whoever gets to love you," he muttered, lips dry and sore from biting and worrying and self loathing. His eyes flickered to meet Ivan's for a second before he tilted his head down, having enough energy left in him to be embarrassed.

Ivan paused before he leaned over the edge of the tub, his sleeve getting soaked as he gently grasped the shoulder that Matthew was leaning on, turning the blonde to face him, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. "Perhaps I don't want anyone else to love me." He whispered against the younger male's lips, violet eyes meeting Matthew's. "Maybe I just want My Bludget to love me."

"Don't...don't want that, Ivan...please...I beg you," he whispered, tears filling his eyes once again as he raised wet hands to press to the other male's collar. "I'm no good for you...I could never be...you deserve every happiness for every ounce you've given everyone else...I'm nothing but a dead end,...please...don't say things like that," he pleaded, guilt and self hatred steaming in his chest.

Ivan pressed his mouth to Matthew's to silence the flow of words. "You're not like everyone else here... You have a good heart, Matvey... If you wanted I could take you anywhere in the world... Away from Five Points... Away from New York." The older man pressed their foreheads together. "I would do anything you wanted and all you need do is ask."

"Then why...? Why are _you _still here?" he asked softly, his body shifting as he gently cupped the officer's cheeks with wet hands. "Why are you still in this hell,Ivan? You could be anywhere...you could do what people here only imagine...why...?"

Ivan stared at Matthew before he whispered. "Because I promised someone, a great man, a long time ago, that I would make sure that this town wasn't completely under Gilbert's tyranny." He whispered, touching the bandages about his own throat. "I haven't forgotten that promise... And until now... I haven't had reason to want to."

"That man is dead now...isn't he?" Matthew asked softly, watching Ivan's hands as he touched the bandages at his neck. "...that man is living in heaven now...and he has left you on Ivan...you can't save everyone..and you can't save New York..."

Ivan gently tilted his head into Matthew's hand, leaning forward to gently kiss the blonde. "That man was a good man, a good friend, and he was the only thing keeping this city from ruin... He didn't leave me this job..." Ivan stared down at the blonde, his eyes on his face. "I took it because I wanted to... And I'll leave when Gilbert is dead... And when you agree to come with me." The older male stroked Matthew's cheeks. "I'll find your Papa, dead or alive, and I'll kill Gilbert... And when that is done..." A large hand stroked Matthew's hair from the blonde's face. "I'll take you and Alfred away from here... I'll find him a hospital, a doctor, have him cared for, and I'll give you a new life... Whatever you want... I'll give it."

"But...but why?" Matthew breathed, his hands extending to brush at Ivan's chest, shaking and

needful of the protection and warmth the man offered and radiated. "...you barely know me. I could be...I could be lying to your face and you offer everything I've...I've ever wanted to me," he whimpered, mumbling under his breath about Alfred and doctors and a real _chance_.

Ivan pressed his fingers to Matthew's cheeks. "Because there are very few people in this entire city who would run into a burning building to save their family..." The man tilted Matthew's face to peer at blue eyes. "And a liar wouldn't blush every time they look in the victim's eyes." His fingers dusted over pale cheeks tinted with a pretty pink.

Matthew gave him a tiny smile, his hands leaving Ivan's chest in order to cup is cheeks and pull him close, nearly into the water as he kissed him, sweet and unbridled and without thought for a moment. It was wonderful...like taking a breath of clean fresh air, full of no worries, no regrets...just he and Ivan. If this was paradise he wished never to leave it...he wanted nothing more to do with the Points, or Gilbert or gangs. He simply wanted Ivan...and Alfred well..even if it was too much to ask.

Even if it was only a dream.

Ivan woke the next morning with Matthew curled against him, thin fingers clutching at his shirt, the blonde dressed in the same shirt that Ivan had given him the night before. The officer smiled and stroked Matthew's fingers, his thumb rubbing over the gentle knuckles before he kissed the soft temple, straightening and standing slowly, turning to look in his mirror and begin to clean himself for another day's work, this time with more purpose than most days.

Bandages tightened around his neck, sleeves rolled up and hammer in hand, Ivan turned to give one more kiss to Matthew's temple before he straightened fully and left the room, door closing softly behind him.

"Pig!" Ivan sighed and turned, legs braced wide as Gilbert cut an apple with one of his knives, slicing a chunk off and taking a generous bite from it. "Putting up bed and board now?" Yellowed teeth were bared in a grin. "Enjoying the payment?"

Ivan shrugged. "You assume so much. Not all of us have to ask for payment to get some."

Gilbert scowled. "You think you rule Paradise Square? I'm the king here."

Ivan snorted and raised an eyebrow, pulling a pocket watch from his breast pocket, the standard issue piece for the Bowry Boys. "Think you can leave something out in this square and no one would filch it?" The man walked out to the water pump and hung the watch from the handle. "In five hours this piece will still be here. Not a single person in this entire city would want to steal from me." Ivan stepped forward and narrowed his eyes down at the albino. "That's the power of not fear, but of respect," The Russian stepped back and began to walk. "And you can't buy respect."

Gilbert bared his teeth and cursed beneath his breath in German, staring at the time piece as people walked by as if they hadn't seen it at all, even as it glinted in the morning light.

Not a single person in the Five Points would stand against the pig, he was either feared or respected and with that sort of silent power it was only a matter of time before Ivan had a following as Arthur had before him. Gilbert's eyes shifted to the building before him, staring at the window of the second floor where Ivan resided, turning after a moment to head back to his tavern.

It was time to lay a trail of breadcrumbs.


End file.
